Fighting A Losing Battle
I took a swig.
‘Mom’s gone now. And Landon. They left together. They are heading to Jevena. I don’t know if they’re ever coming back.’
I wiped my mouth. ‘Do you think I should forgive them?’
Mom’s parting words were still ringing in my ears.
‘What do you think Mom meant? Was she trying to tell me something?’
I emptied the bottle.
Chardonnay was too mellow, kind of like Dad’s personality.
Maybe that was why he favoured it so much.
To drown my sorrows, I needed something a lot stronger, like vodka.
‘Dad, I don’t think I can hold on to Candour. Grandpa’s siding with Rainey. I don’t stand much of a chance. Will you think I’m useless?’
I pressed my cheek against the tombstone.
It was cold and hard and unresponsive.
‘Dad, I miss you.’
A sea breeze caressed my face.
Its gentle touch felt like Dad’s.
‘Dad, is that you?’
I thought I was all cried out, but I wasn’t.
I hugged the tombstone and bawled my eyes out.
***
Someone once told me that insomniacs were haunted by memories of their past.
I w
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